


Five Times House pranked Wilson And One Time He Didn't

by CharlieLovesU



Category: House, House M.D.
Genre: 5 + 1, Angst, Arguing, Crack, First Kiss, Forced Outing, M/M, Pining, Pranks, a bit at the end anyway, theyre both kinda dumb and house is a little shit, wilson still loves him tho bless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 04:12:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17521778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieLovesU/pseuds/CharlieLovesU
Summary: in which House seems to be trying to reach Wilson's breaking point with increasingly annoying pranks, but Wilson believes he can't.House really can do a lot of impossible things, can't he ?Crack fic until it gets a liiil angsty at the end kinda sorta





	Five Times House pranked Wilson And One Time He Didn't

**Author's Note:**

> idk this fandom is dead but this fic has been sitting untouched in my drafts for way too long never posted so i hope someone enjoys it lol

 

As confusing and complex as his life and the world got around Wilson, one thing always seemed to stay consistent within it:

His best friend, the infamous Gregory House himself, was an asshole.

Just an absolute garbage, garbage man.

Wilson could take a lot from him. The years of dealing with House's bullshit had practically numbed him to anything he could come up with, but he truly felt like today of all days House was on a mission to find his breaking point.

Much to his own surprise, Wilson didn't think he had one. Not with House.

Not yet ?

He was on thin fucking ice, though.

 

 

It started with messing with his coffee.

 

Admittedly, he shouldn't accept anything that comes from House's hands, ever.

To his _defense_ , though, they had walked into work _together_ and went for the coffee _right_ _next_ _to_ _each_ _other_ , so Wilson somehow fooled himself into believing that House might not have had the time to mess with it in the five seconds House held Wilson's coffee in his garbage hands before handing it to him.

He said a quick goodbye to House as he walked into his office, soon to be joined by one of his newer patients and her mother.

 

Beverage in hand, he looked at the results, sighing. It was way too early for this, and the expectant look on the mother's face as he turned to her made him wish subpar coffee made all problems disappear.

"Mrs Lloyd, I'm afrai..."

It was worse coffee than usual today, actually.

Huh.

Not even that... it had an... unusual taste that...

"I'm af... affrr..." Wilson sighed, rubbing at his head, "So...urry, I _think_ someth... _g'wrong_... I..." 

Although its true that it never gets easier to tell a child she's dying, it can also get significantly harder when after a few sips of coffee you pass out at your desk.

"Dr. Wilson ?" is the last thing he heard in little Sophie's gentle but concerned voice before his head fell flat on his desk.

 

Feeling more worn out than he had in a while, Wilson slowly opened his eyes to find House standing over him, grinning like a maniac.

So much for the phrase 'sight for sore eyes'.

He was in a hospital bed, but not hooked up to anything, and all he could really feel wrong with him was a mild headache, being tired, and the fact he was still friends with House.

What a waste of a bed.

Why wasn't he just left on his office's couch ? 

Were the nurses allowing this ?

"House... what did you do ?" 

"Clearly, I drugged you." House said, waving his free hand at Wilson's current state, "I must have been mistaken to take you for a man who could figure that out for yourself."

"Not what I meant." He said, rubbing his temple, "If you're grinning like that over me after this subpar prank, you've done something wrong."

"Impressive, you saw right through me. Or maybe you didn't." House shrugged innocently, swiftly taking a Vicodin from the bottle in his pocket and swallowing it dry, "I'm not telling."

He wondered sometimes how dry House's throat must feel doing that every day.

"How long was I out?" Wilson asked, sighing as he raised himself up to a sitting position, legs over the side of the bed.

"Not enough to miss lunch." House said, looking at his watch, "Join me."

"Are you gonna pay ?"

House pretended to think about it for a moment. "No." He decided, picking up his cane and starting to leave.

Wilson sighed, following after him.

He needed to clear out the bed for someone who might actually need it, anyway.

(Seriously, why was he in one at all ?)

 

 

The second time was at the cafeteria.

 

The two sat across from each other on a table at the far corner of the room, talking and laughing together like House hadn't just drugged him.

"You're lucky I don't have as many patients today, House." Wilson said, "But I don't know how I'm going to explain this to Sophie and her mom next time i see them."

"She's dying, she doesn't care," House shrugged.

"How nice of you. And she doesn't know she's dying, because you _drugged_ _me_ before I could say anything."

"Oh, no, no, no, I told them for you." House said, smiling innocently, "I also told them to call you later so you can schedule a time to actually do your job."

"You're an ass."

"You love me."

"Couldn't any less, actually."

"And yet here you are." House said, "And since you _are_ here, can you get me a coke ? Bum leg, you see. Can't get it myself."

He sighed. "Why didn't you get a drink before we sat down ?"

"But mooooom !" House said, pouting childishly at him.

"Alright, alright." Wilson said, too tired to argue, "But I'm watching you, so don't try anything."

"Mmhmm."

 

He wasn't gone long, but by the time he sat back down and handed House his drink, he noticed a portion of his fries missing, unsurprisingly.

At least he'd left the rest untouched.

House took the drink from his hands with a slight nod and a "Thank you."

Wilson blinked in surprise, actually stopping in his tracks for a moment, "Uh, you're welcome, Mr. Good-Manners."

"Is that what you'd call me in the bedroom?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." Wilson said, chuckling as he took a sip of his own drink, and found that he couldn't put it down.

No. Actually.

"House."

"Yes, schmuckums ?"

" _What_ _did_ _you_ _do_ _to_ _my_ _cup ?_ "

"Nothing you can't handle." He said, pulling at it and grinning as it didn't budge, "See, you're handling it so well, you can't un-handle it!"

"I am going to bash your skull in."

"With that _widdle_ _stywofoam_ _cup_  ?"

"Your cane would work better." 

"Good luck reaching it, _buddy_." House said, limping two feet away from him. Wilson didn't think he'd ever heard House say the word 'buddy' before.

"What do you mean 'good lu-" Wilson started saying as he tried to get up to follow him.

Keyword: tried.

"...You didn't."

"Oh, but Jimmy, I _did_."

"I was barely gone two minutes !"

"You underestimate the cripple." House grinned, "And severely overestimate your ability to keep an eye on me."

They stared at each other for a moment, Wilson fuming as House continued to smile sweetly at him. He blindly reached for the Vicodin in his pocket, shoving it in his mouth as he watched Wilson squirm, not breaking eye contact once.

"House."

"Mhm ?"

"How am I supposed to get out of this ?"

"Well, your pants are the only thing attached to the seat, aren't they ?" House said, finally breaking eye contact just to look down at Wilson's pants, which was somehow worse, "I hope you wore some sensible underwear."

"Fuck you, House."

"You can't reach me to."

No, he really couldn't.

He sighed and put his head on the table, running his hand that didn't have a cup stuck to it through his hair.

"I'll call over one of my ducklings, maybe they'll help you." House said, "Or laugh at you, too, that's up to them."

 

Foreman had mostly just laughed. There really wasn't much that could be done to save Wilson from this situation.

 

 

The third time House pranked him that day was technically the second.

 

Wearing some spare pants and a deep crimson on his face that didn't seem to go away, Wilson walked into his office to see House, laying down, completely spread out on the floor. 

He was stunned into silence for a moment, staring, completely dumbfounded, around the room.

" _What_. Did you _do_. To my **_office_**." Wilson said, refusing to yell as to not raise more attention to himself than he'd already gotten, but still steaming through his ears, every word burning in his mouth as he said it.

"You seriously ask the most stupid questions." House teased, raising himself up with his cane and gesturing wildly with it around the room.

 

The _completely_ _empty_ room.

 

"When... How- How did you-" Wilson doubled over, suddenly hyperventilating, "I-But... but you- where are...?"

"While you were drugged out I used my super cripple strength and carried them to hell myself." House said, grinning the grin he had when Wilson had woken up for the second time that day, "Oh, and actual hired professionals with two working legs. Each."

"I- But- I- my desk...? My- How long was I out for you to be able to.... ? I need to sit down."

"Can I recommend this lovely couch?" House said, gesturing to the floor.

Not like he had many other options.

Resting his hand on the wall, he slid down to the floor, staring at the walls around him.

Wilson chuckled humorlessly. It was the first time in his life he'd seen his office like this. Even in its previous emptiest, it had always had at least a desk and a chair in it.

God, he felt so tired.

So, he started laughing.

Dropping his head in his hands, he laughed at the absurdity of it all. It was convulsing out of him and he had absolutely no control over it.

House didn't laugh back. Wilson didn't know if he expected him to. 

"House- you... you are the worst person I have ever met." He said through it, barely getting it out. House smiled back, a genuine, surprisingly un-mischievous one.

"I know." He said, "And don't worry, all your stuff is on the balcony. I doubt the birds stole anything more than a shiny pen or two."

Mercy.

 

Maybe House was softening his edge a little bit after all.

 

...

 

No. That didn't make any sense.

"Why did you do this, anyway?" Wilson asked, "It's all so easily fixable, it feels strange you put any effort into it at all."

"You acting like a sissy at seeing an empty room is payment enough."

Yeah, that sounds more like him. 

"I'm not paying to move it back, though." House said, "That part you have to deal with yourself."

"That much I assumed."

"Good."

Wilson put his hand down, looking over at House again. He was still smiling, and despite him being a garbage, garbage man, Wilson thought he looked beautiful. 

And then he beat the thought down into the hidden, repressed depths of his mind with a metaphorical stick.

He wasn't married anymore, but that didn't mean House was an option.

He wouldn't have this conversation with himself again.

"I'm taking your office for the rest of my appointments today." Wilson said, and saw House's smile fade into a frown.

"No, you're not."

"This is the consequence of your actions, House." Wilson shrugged, "You've left me with no other choice."

"You're no fun." House pouted, "Where are you sending the poor cripple instead ?"

"Acting needy won't change my mind." 

"Really ? It's what got you to marry three wives so far."

"Shut up, House."

"And they say romance is dead !"

 

 

 

Wilson wasn't exactly sure how to describe House's fourth... prank ?

 

He was in House's office, sitting across one of his soon-to-be not-regular-anymore patients, Ms. Jackson.

Despite the misery that seems to follow House wherever he goes and taint all that House considered his, Wilson had nothing but good news for her.

It was his first patient that week to be crying in front of him in _joy_ , and it was relief and joy he was relishing in experiencing with her.

( Probably the first tears of joy to ever grace House's office, too. )

However, the smile on Wilson's face wavered a little as he spotted House on the other side of the glass door.

This couldn't be good.

"Hi, honey !" House said as he burst in.

Wilson sighed.

What was he up to this time ?

"House, I'm with a patient." He said, fixing his focus back onto her, like House wasn't even there.

There was just a nice, self-balancing cane that happened to be standing in the middle of the room.

Eventually, you get used to it, floating there all by itself _not_ being held by a Dr. Gregory House.

"Well, it's my office, so I can do whatever I want." He said, limping to his side of the desk and placing an arm around Wilson's shoulders.

The cane speaks.

"Plus, we have a date tonight, don't we, sweetie ?" 

Wilson snapped his head up at him so fast he thought he heard his neck crack.

"House." _What_. Is. He. _Doing_.

The patient looked, bewildered, between them, but then smiled, "Aw, I'm glad you found someone, James ! No offense, dear, you seemed really lonely lately."

It was Wilson's turn to look bewildered, "i looked... ? Um... I- We're not-" 

"Thank you, Mary !" House said with a big, almost genuine looking smile. Horrifying.

"You know her nam- ?" Wilson started, but was cut off by House _kissing_ _him_.

 

What.

 

The _**fuck**_.

 

It was so short he almost didn't even process that it happened, barely noticing how it felt. It took him a second to even believe it.

"I'll pick you up after work, then, darling."

Wilson blushed, cursing his face for totally blowing all of the effort he had put into repressing his feelings for House down.

He had to do something. Say something. Anything _any_ _less_ _compromising_ than acting like a flustered schoolgirl.

Wilson frowned at him. Yeah, sure, that works.

He flashed a disgusted, uncomfortable scowl that he didn't feel like having but seemed to work enough to not let anything slide.

Can't be in lov... can't... you know, the thing, if you look like you're disgusted about kissing him, right ? 

House's face fell for a second, like whatever Wilson had done had messed with whatever it was he was trying to achieve with this.

"Interesting." He said, studying Wilson's face further. Wilson had committed to looking annoyed and vaguely disgusted at that point.

House gave a pat on Wilson's back before getting up, and just like that, he was gone.

 

"How long have you two been together ?" Ms. Jackson asked. Wilson had practically forgotten she was there. She was older, but she didn't seem too bothered, so that's a relief. Lucked out on the not-homophobic patient.

"Uh... pretty much just got together, actually. Very new." It was close enough to the truth.

What the fuck did House do that for ?

"Aww, how nice, dear." She said, "I wish both of you the best."

They finished the appointment shortly after, and she thanked him for everything.

Wilson felt himself smile again. She extended her hand for a handshake which he gladly accepted and she was out the door soon after. 

Great timing for her to be healthy, he thought. Now he won't have to keep this up with her too much. 

Once she was completely out of his sight, Wilson slumped back onto the chair.

 _House's_ chair.

It was comfortable. Also weirdly comforting, in a way. 

He placed the tip of fingers on his lips, thinking.

 

"Something on your mind ?" House said, reappearing in the doorway.

Wilson turned to look at him, snapping his hand away from his face, "What the fuck did you do that for, House ?"

"Fun." House said casually, sitting on the chair his patient had been just a minute ago, pushing it _much_ closer to the desk than it really needed to be, "Testing a theory."

"And that theory would be... ?"

"You've always been secretly gay for me." 

It sounded more like a statement than a hypothesis.

"Riiight." Wilson said, not letting his face give anything away, "And this proved that ?" 

"Results inconclusive." House shrugged, "You reacted the same way another person I tested this on did, and my relationship with him was... complicated, to say the least."

"You've kissed other men ?"

"You jealous, shmuckums ?"

"No," he lied, "I'm just surprised. I didn't know you were bi." That part was true.

"I didn't say I was. I said I've kissed other men."

"So you're... not ?"

"Oh, no, I am."

Wilson sighed.

"I'm hurt, Jimmy." House said, mockingly putting his free hand at his chest, "Don't you know me at all?"

"Between all the _female_  hookers you get every week and your constant harassments towards Cuddy, forgive me if I didn't expect many men on your plate."

House shrugged unenthusiastically.

The silence that ensued as Wilson took it all in was deafening. There was a part of him that was happy. The other part, however, the one grasping for reasons why House wasn't an option, was screaming at there being one more reason he could be. 

But he wasn't.

"How long have you known ?" Wilson asked, "That you're..." 

"Ninth grade." House answered without much hesitation, "You ?"

"I'm not-" 

"C'mooon,Wilson." House said with a grin, "If I of all people told you, you can say it to me too."

"I..."

God, why was he in this mess ?

This was a terrible idea. One that he had no obligation to follow through on. And yet, Wilson heard himself saying it more than he actually felt like he said it, "M...Med school. Freshman year. But I haven't... been with... Yeah."

Betrayed by his own vocal chords.

His heart was beating fast, his hands sweaty. He fixed his gaze to the floor, like that would shield him from the decision he just made.

"The repressed type, I'm not surprised." House grinned.

Wilson couldn't see the grin, but he knew it was there.

House'd won. 

It was relieving to have that out there to someone, even if it was House of all people, but he couldn't help the underlying feeling of dread.

"For the record, House... I may be... that, but you're not even on the bottom of my list of options."

"I know." House said, leaning back on the chair so he was facing the ceiling, "How cliché would that be ?"

"Not at all." Wilson said. Why the fuck did he say that ? 

"Hmm."

"What ?"

"Interesting."

Wilson refused to say anything to that.

 

They sat in silence for a while, House still looking up at the ceiling and Wilson lying to himself that he wasn't staring. House took another Vicodin, barely moving from the position he was in while Wilson just stared at where his neck met his collar as it went down.

House's phone rang then, grabbing both of their attentions.

" _What_  ?" House said to the person on the other line, them replying something Wilson couldn't hear, "And what do you need _me_ for, then ? I'm sending Wilson. He's the emotional mastermind, clearly" He said that last part staring directly at him, and Wilson wasn't entirely sure what he meant by it.

He hung up before they could reply.

"New patient is crying hysterically, Foreman doesn't know what to do. I think calming him down is closer to your area of expertise ?"

"They can't just drug him or something ? Or get a nurse ?"

"How inconsiderate of you, Wilson." House said, "He wants to talk to a doctor and I guess Foreman isn't the pinnacle of comfort. He's not posing a danger to them and they think he'll just start crying again afterwards anyway. Ask the nurse where Mr. Jacobson is, I forgot."

Wilson sighed, "Fine."

"Atta boy." House said as Wilson walked away from him, "Show 'em the skills you've mastered from years of cancer kids !" 

"Fuck you, House."

"You wish."

Wilson didn't reply to that either.

 

 

House's fifth prank of the day was the most childish one, and coincidentally also the one that made Wilson the angriest.

 

Despite expecting House to jump out and scare him any moment saying Mr. Jacobson wasn't even real and House had made the entire call up to get him where he needed Wilson to be, he had a completely uneventful walk to the room.

He found the patient surprisingly easy to calm, despite what was said about him. The moment Wilson had walked in, the patient relaxed significantly, and his words and reassurances did the job pretty quick.

He wondered why Foreman had a harder time. Maybe Wilson just radiates the peace of mind he didn't have for himself.

Or maybe the patient was just a racist.

Tomato-tomahto.

Everything just seemed to be going too well for him.

So of course, House ruined it.

"Dr. Wilson ?" One of the nurses said, and Wilson thought he felt her pick something off of his back, "Is this... uh..." 

He turned to face her, face paling as he saw the sticky note in her hand.

He grabbed it violently, scaring the nurse (and apologizing quickly) as he stared at House's childish writing on the cursed yellow square that made his blood boil.

"IM BISEXUAL" it didn't say anymore as Wilson crumpled it and shoved it in his pocket where no one could see it and know that's what it had said. He vaguely noticed himself breathing much heavier through his nose than he was before.

That /motherfucker./

"Yeah, that's been there since you walked in. Didn't wanna stop you as you dealt with the patient, though." Foreman said unhelpfully. "Sorry."

"You-" Wilson said, pointing angrily at him but decided against focusing his rage on someone not at fault.

He shoved his hands in his pocket, clenching his jaw shut and storming off without another word. He knew very well where he was meant to be right now.

 

The blinds were drawn and Wilson couldn't see what House was doing in his office, but damned if he cared about whatever he was about to walk into.

The door was unlocked, and Wilson slammed it behind him, surprised at how dark the office suddenly was without the light from the hallway.

It was way too late, and his tolerance was stretched much too thin.

" _You_ _had_ _ABSOLUTELY_ _**NO**_ _**RIGHT**_ _TO_ _DO_ _THIS_ , _HOUSE_ !" He yelled, not even having looked at House properly yet, blindly throwing the crumpled up sticky note on his desk, " _This was **PRIVATE** and it was so for **A**  _ _ **REASON** and even if you think no one will believe it and that it'll jusy be some funny, funny prank that's obviously from you, you had **NO** **RIGHT** to put me into the position of denying it and as a sane, rational adult who is **LIKE** **ME** you should have realized that-" _

Wilson stopped, breathing heavily as he finally took in the scene in front of him.

"...House?"

He was sat at his desk, looking at Wilson with red-rimmed eyes. The single source of light in his office was his lamp, shining directly into his face.

His cane was on the floor on the other side of the room, and his face looked so pale and hollow and _tired_ it made his heart ache.

Wilson's breath hitched. The sight was morbidly beautiful, in a way. The coincidentally almost-painting-like scene making him feel like he was watching a beautifully shot frame in a movie he'd never expected to see.

"You..." Wilson trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"If you wanted a quckie, you should have called ahead." House said, gesturing unenthusiastically at himself, "I'm a mess." 

"This..." Wilson pointed at him, "Are you messing with me? Is this another prank ? 'House shows emotion and then laughs when his naïve best friend falls for it' ?"

"If that helps you sleep at night." House chuckled humorlessly.

"I..." He stared and stared, not knowing what else to do. He just stood there, hands on his hip, waiting for the universe to give him some idea.

At some point he stumbled back onto the chair in front of the desk, out of habit to be closer more so than conscious decision to give his legs a break. "I..." 

" _You."_ House mocked, "Are bad at words."

"And _you're_ bad at being a friend." Wilson spit back, not caring at all about the frown deepening in House's face. Definitely not.

House stared back at him for a moment, as if trying to will bite into his words, but he failed to, instead quietly replying "I know."

"You may have taken me aback with your... your... How you are now. But-" Wilson sighed, "This... This was just low, House. Even for you."

House winced. Actually _winced_. "I know." 

"What did you _want_ out of this, anyway? What did this do for you ?" He said, rubbing at his face, "Normally there's _something_ to gain from the shitty things you do, but look at you ! It's not making you happy or satisfied or... Anything ! It wasn't even _clever_ !" 

House hesistated. 

"I stuck it there before you told me."

Well that just explains all of it, doesn't it ?

"Ah. Of course." Wilson pointed at him, House flinching back a little as he did so, "It's always about proving a _fucking_ _point_ for you, isn't it ? House, who **_always_** _**knows**_ _**everything**_  at _all_   _times_! It doesn't matter that this is extremely fucking _personal_ to me and was _really_ _fucking_ ha- _hard-"_ He hated how his voice shook, "to... to _accept_  it and when I finally open up about it to _someone_ other than my goddamn therapist, I'm immediately betrayed!" 

"I don't..." House said, "I don't know everything." 

Well, that's new.

" _Shocker_ , coming from you." Wilson said, raising his eyebrows at him, "Why don't you repeat that while I record it ? Let it be known that Doctor Gregory House-"

"James." House said, cutting him off. He propped himself upwards, miserably walking to sit on the front of his desk, facing Wilson much closer than before. With the chair still so close, House was almost between his legs in this position, and if House was standing, he definitely would be.

It's only then, looking at House gripping his thigh did Wilson notice the empty Vicodin bottle on the table that he'd almost knocked down when he sat. He must have run out.

Trust House to only show emotion when his leg hurts.

Of course. 

"I don't know everything. I, Greg House, don't know everything. Are you happy now ?"

Wilson didn't really know what to say. It didn't help that sitting with House over him and so, so close caused his throat to close up. 

He stood up to counter it, but only ended up closer to him, the thickness of the air between them choking him as he stood mere inches away, between the sitting legs of the biggest pain in the ass he'd encountered in his life. 

Neither of them could break eye contact with each other, staring intently as words refused to form and both of them stood deadly still for far too long.

Wilson didn't know what came over him, wether it be a heap of irrationally, stupidity, or blind courage, but he leaned in, so slow it almost hurt. He could hear his heart beat loudly in his ears and his mind was _screaming_ but House wasn't turning away or pushing him back. If Wilson dared to believe it, he thought House was leaning in too and there was nothing in the world he wanted more at that very moment.

He closed his eyes as they finally met somewhere in the middle, one hand cupping House's cheek and the other behind him, holding onto the desk for dear life, untrusting of his own legs to keep him upright.

He wasn't sure how long it went on, but in the quiet of House's office this late at night, nothing felt more natural than to keep it going for as long as he could.

The kiss was so gentle and hesitant and _innocent_ that when he finally pulled away he couldn't believe that that's what kissing _House_ , the rough, egomaniac, garbage, _garbage_ man, was like. Especially from the position they were in, where one more move forward could have turned it's innocence on its head, but neither of them took it.

They looked silently at each other, everything so right and at peace it almost felt wrong to be allowed to enjoy it.

"You're still an ass." Wilson said breathlessly, and House actually chuckled.

"And you're still here."

"I am." He smiled, hand dropping from House's face, but gently placing both onto his waist instead. He didn't flinch or push them away, so Wilson took it as a good sign to keep them there.

"Not to ruin the mood," House said, about to ruin the mood, "But since you _are_ here, could you get me some Vicodin? My leg's been killing me."

"Romance really _is_ dead with you, isn't it?" 

House shrugged, "I really don't know what you expected."

"Yeah, me neither." He said, pulling himself off of House and finding he missed the warmth immediately, "How about we get them and go home ?"

"No objections here."

"Just... stop with the pranks."

"You know I can't promise things like that." House smirked at him, standing up as slowly as humanly possible.

Wilson shook his head with a chuckle, but came in to help anyway, and for once, House didn't push him away, keeping Wilson's arm around him as they walked in comfortable silence. It was such gentle intimacy coming from _House_ that Wilson couldn't believe it was actually happening, but he wasn't going to stop it, either.

 

Maybe things could work out for them.

 

As confusing and complex as his life and the world got around Wilson, one thing always seemed to stay consistent within it:

His best friend, the infamous Gregory House himself, was an asshole. 

And Wilson wouldn't replace him with anyone else in the world.

 

**Author's Note:**

> welp. 
> 
> hope you enjoyed if ur still alive in this fandom pls comment thanks love u bye


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